Chapter 5

This wasn’t my first appearance at a Prescott family event as James’s “assistant.” Years ago, James had explained that his mother would object to my humble background, so we’d marry first and gradually win her approval later. I was touched by his apparent commitment and didn’t object. Little did I know this “temporary” arrangement would stretch to seven years.

His mother had somehow learned about my five stillbirths. She’d decided I was promiscuous, calling me a “tramp” and demanding James get rid of me. In the past, James might have defended me, but now, with the radiant Rachel captivating him, why would he care about me?

Hearing his mother’s demands, James put on a show of reluctance. “Fine, I’m going abroad on business the day after tomorrow. Rachel can come with me, and we’ll have the wedding there.”

Not a moment’s hesitation. Rachel feigned shyness. “But I haven’t even tried on wedding dresses or rings yet.”

On cue, assistants wheeled in twenty-three haute couture wedding gowns—each a custom creation from international fashion houses, requiring at least three years of advance booking. Each gown had matching diamond rings, every stone the size of a quail’s egg. One pink diamond ring looked familiar—I’d seen it at a televised jewelry auction last month. Two hundred million dollars. These weren’t last-minute preparations. They’d been planned long ago.

Rachel squealed with delight, planting a kiss on James’s cheek. “Wow, they’re all my exact size! And twenty-three—the year we first met. You’re so thoughtful, James.” “Tell me, have you been plotting to marry me since we were children?” she teased. James responded with a silent smile, but his adoring gaze said everything.

I glanced down at the plain band on my finger—the one James gave me when he proposed. He’d bought it too small; it dug painfully into my skin, but I could never bring myself to remove it.

Looking at the diamond rings he’d chosen for Rachel, I noticed they were exactly my size. So that was the truth. Not carelessness. Not forgetfulness. In his heart, he only remembered details about Rachel. Standing beside them, I felt like a ridiculous clown.

I quietly slipped away to the restroom, splashing ice water on my face to wash away the tears. As I exited, I collided with a warm embrace. James handed me an elegantly designed perfume bottle, his voice soothing.

“Jealous? It’s Mom’s birthday—I couldn’t go against her wishes. Agreeing to marry Rachel is just for show. Those dresses and rings are just to appease her. Once we’re abroad, I’ll explain everything. You and I are the ones with the real marriage certificate.”

“Emily, I promise, after this month is over, I’ll come clean with Mom about us. I’ll give you the grand wedding you deserve. Try to understand, okay?”

“I know you love perfume. I went to great lengths to get this bottle—newly created by a world-renowned perfumer. See how much I love you?”

Bitterness washed over me. This perfume was one of the wedding favors for his and Rachel’s guests. He’d invited over a thousand people to ensure a spectacular celebration. I was the one being pacified with empty gestures.

My phone buzzed with a reminder about my afternoon surgery appointment. James noticed and asked with confusion: “Emily, what surgery are you having?”